In the year 1396 when Sigismundus, the former King
of Hungary, was defeated by the Turkish emperor Celapino, a German soldier
deserted his regiment in the thick of battle and took refuge in the woods.
The foes of war were soon replaced by the enemies
cold, thirst, and hunger. With nowhere to turn for help, he was about to
surrender to the powers of despair, when without warning an awful spirit
appeared before him. He offered the poor soldier great wealth, if he would but
serve this uncanny master for seven years. Seeing no other escape from his
misery, the soldier agreed.
The terms of the pact were quickly stated: For
seven years the soldier was to wear only a bearskin robe, both day and night.
He was to say no prayers. Neither comb nor shears were to touch his hair and
beard. He was not to wash, nor cut his nails, nor blow his nose, nor even wipe
his behind. In return, the spirit would provide him with tobacco, food, drink,
and an endless supply of money.
The soldier, who by his very nature was not
especially fond of either prayers or of cleanliness, entered into the
agreement. He took lodgings in a village inn, and discovered soon enough that
his great wealth was ample compensation for his strange looks and ill smell.
A nobleman frequented this inn. Impressed by
Bearskin's lavish and generous expenditures, he presented him with a proposal.
"I have three beautiful daughters," he said. "If the terms are
right, you may choose any one of them for a bride."
Bearskin named a sum that was acceptable to the
nobleman, and the two set forth to the palace to make the selection. The two
older daughters made no attempt to hide their repugnance of the strange suitor,
but the youngest unhesitatingly accepted her father's will. Bearskin formalized
the betrothal by removing a ring from his own finger and twisting it into two
pieces. One piece he gave to his future bride; the other he kept. Saying that
soon he would return, he departed.
The seven years were nearly finished, so a short
time later Bearskin did indeed come back for his bride. Now freshly bathed,
neatly shorn, elegantly dressed, and riding in a luxurious carriage, he was a
suitor worthy of a princess. Identifying himself with his half of the twisted
ring, he claimed his bride.
Beside themselves with envy, and furious that they
had squandered their rights to this handsome nobleman, one of the bride's older
sisters hanged herself from a tree and the other one drowned herself in a well.
Thus the devil gained two souls for the one that he had lost.
